Thomas Kenzie operated his "grates" shop in the ground floor of 223 Seventh Avenue as early as 1853. (The address would be changed to 259 in 1868.) Grates were important elements of mid-19th century fireplaces. At a minimum, they held the coal above the fireplace floor, providing oxygen to the fuel. The most elaborate examples included decorative panels that protected the fireplace opening.
Grates elevated the coal and made removal of ashes convenient.
The brick-faced building that held Kenzie's shop was four stories tall. Its Italianate design included cast metal lintels and a wooden cornice with a deep fascia board and paired scrolled brackets. The upper floors were operated as a working-class rooming house. Living above Thomas Kenzie's shop in 1853 were three laborers (a carpenter, a tinsmith, and a porter) and one tenant who was either out of work or retired. Nearly all of the residents had Irish surnames and several of them would have had wives or small families, making conditions crowded.
By the first year of the Civil War, the names of the tenants had changed from Irish to German. Living here in 1861 were Frederick A. Baltzer, a saloon owner; peddlers Lewis Dorf and Jacob Strauss; Solomon Wertheimer, a butcher; William Gagal, a "tinman;" tailor William Radlaen; and Joseph Wagner, a turner. The shop space was now shared by Jacob Rosenberg's fancygoods store and Jacob Schaseets shoe shop.
Children of working class families were expected to contribute to their finances. On April 23, 1863, an ad was posted in the "Situations Wanted" column of The New York Times:
As chambermaid, &c.--A respectable girl wants a situation in a private family to do upstair work and fine washing and ironing, or attend to children; she has excellent City reference. Call at No. 223 7th-av., between 24th and 25th sts.
Andrew Leopold (sometimes spelled Leupold) opened a butcher store here in 1864 and would remain for six years. On April 26, 1870, an ad offered "Store to Let--No. 259 Seventh Avenue, one door from Twenty-fifth street." At the time, among the upstairs tenants (who included an upholsterer and two smiths, for example) was a sculptor, Joseph Winterl. He would remain here at least through 1880. Winterl most likely worked in several of the stone carving shops throughout the city that provided decorative architectural elements and fireplace mantels.
Peter Carley lived here with his widowed mother, Mary, in the late 1880s. Born in 1848, he joined the Customs Service in 1875 as a night inspector (today's security guard). Mary died on January 31, 1890 and her funeral was held in their rooms on February 3.
Peter Carley, who never married, continued to live here. He was working at the Barge Office on the night of December 13, 1893. Just before midnight, another inspector offered him an orange. The Evening World reported, "As he reached for it he fell to the floor. In half an hour he was dead." Authorities assumed that the 45-year-old had suffered a heart attack.
A French couple arrived in New York City in the summer of 1895. They took rooms here and looked for work. An ad in The New York Times read, "Cook--By a French cook; best references from Paris and New-York; as extra in private families. Mme. Boulard, 259 7th Av." Her husband placed an advertisement on January 26, 1896 that read, "Upholsterer and Decorator--Draperies, curtains, and mattresses; private house work a specialty; prices moderate. E. Boulard, 259 7th Av."
Patrick and Mary Reilly lived here in 1902 with their two-year-old daughter. Reilly worked as a cabman for the Hoffman House. On July 30 that year, Mary was using naptha to clean their rooms. The highly flammable mixture was a common cleaning product. She left the opened can in the room with her daughter for a moment. The New York Herald reported, "Turning, she saw a sheet of flame sweep upward and a cloud of smoke burst from the room." Mary "threw her apron over her head and face and dashed through the flame and smoke to the rescue of her daughter." The article said although her apron caught fire, her hair was singed and her arms and face burned, "she did not stop till she had picked up the child and carried it through the fire." She fell unconscious on the threshold of the door into the hallway.
Mary Reilly and her daughter were rescued and although Mary's burns were severe, they were not fatal. The newspaper lauded her "brave deed" that "saved her baby from an awful death." (The damage to the furniture in their rooms was estimated at $100, or about $3,760 in 2025.)
On April 4, 1908, the venerable Fifth Avenue Hotel closed and within weeks its demolition began. James Gilroy lived at 249 Seventh Avenue at the time, and on July 29 the unlucky 30-year-old was passing by the site. The Brooklyn Daily Eagle reported that he, "was struck in the head by a piece of flying rock during a blast at the old Fifth Avenue Hotel." He was taken to New York Hospital with a possible skull fracture.
Resident Chester Carey was described by The Evening World on October 25, 1912 as, "a red headed youth who told the Court that he had no occupation." He was in a Brooklyn court after being arrested the previous day "while he was trying to break into some of the children's lockers in one of the hallways" of the Boys' High School. The principal had earlier notified police of a series of small thefts. When Carey was confronted, he attempted to pass himself off as a gas inspector, but when he could not produce identification from the company, he was arrested.
On March 5, 1920, The New York Times reported that "a furrier" had purchased 259 Seventh Avenue, "who will remodel the building for his own occupancy." The upper floors were converted for commercial purposes and in October that year, Jacob Newman & Nathan Pozin leased the second floor. The following month, an advertisement in The New York Times sought, "Bookkeeper and correspondent; capable, experienced; state references. L. Newman & Co. 259 7th Av."
The 1920 renovation resulted in a restaurant on the ground floor. An eatery would remain in the space for decades to follow.
In 1941 a cafeteria occupied the ground floor while "light manufacturing" took place upstairs. via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.
By the mid-1940s, the upper floors were occupied by the J. C. Manufacturing Company. It made parts of sewing machines.
The upper portion of the building returned to domestic use in the late 20th century. It holds three apartments today.
photographs by the author
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